


Doctor

by LadyBraken



Category: The Terror (TV 2018)
Genre: Amputation, Fluff and Angst, M/M, One Shot, liberal use of Tuunbaq
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-23
Updated: 2019-07-23
Packaged: 2020-07-12 11:29:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19945438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyBraken/pseuds/LadyBraken
Summary: When he saw Thomas Blanky getting out of his cabin, all wrapped up in scarves and layers, the looming feeling of dread fell down into his stomach. He could hear the two captains screaming at each other, and poor Jopson looked like a punished child in front of the door.“Mr Blanky, what is happening?”





	Doctor

When he saw Thomas Blanky getting out of his cabin, all wrapped up in scarves and layers, the looming feeling of dread fell down into his stomach. He could hear the two captains screaming at each other, and poor Jopson looked like a punished child in front of the door. 

“Mr Blanky, what is happening?”

“He’s sick with it, now.” Blanky said tiredly. He put his hand on the doctor's forearm, “Fetch yeh coat and com’ with me.”

The Captain’s voice could still be heard across the entire ship. McDonald nodded and went. He didn’t like the idea of Thomas alone out there - of any of them out there, really. Too often these days had he seen men lose a finger, a toe, sometimes even an ear. Thomas Blanky would be safe. He was the toughest of all of them - even Captain Crozier. But as Alexander put on his coat, the thought didn’t reassure him as much as it should.

Their clothes weren’t adapted for such cold. The food was - bad at best. They were stuck. Men had a strange line appearing on their gums.  _ Headache, pains, confusion _ . He almost ran back to the small stairs. 

A crash, and powdery snow fell in his eyes. MacDonald was forced to almost let himself fall back on the wooden floor as everyone rushed to the hatch. “It’s stuck!” someone said. Crozier took one look at it and started walking away. “Lower hatch!”

“It’s been sealed, Sir.” said Little, “Just today.”

MacDonald leaned on the wooden wall. He felt his hand graze the corner of it, knuckles white.  _ No. _

It was the only word that surfaced the chaos of his thought. The men were screaming outside (Thomas’ name being called, running footsteps,  _ it’s here! Mr Blanky, Mr Blanky! _ ), and they were stuck. The beast was after them  _ and they were stuck _ .

“It’s at the stern!” cried Jopson. MacDonald distantly thought that he had never heard that boy’s voice rise quite like that. It was - strange. Crozier had climbed up on the stairs, his face in the small hole left by - whatever had fallen on the hatch. 

“ _ Thomas _ .”

“I can’t get down!” shouted Blanky. MacDonald closed his eyes to stop himself from crying. the wind was screaming, almost drowning Blanky’s voice in it’s icy anger. Almost as if he was already part of it. 

“Thomas it’s at the stern!”

“It’s at the stern!” echoed The ice master to the men stuck with him. When the creature walked, its footsteps echoed like two gigantic rocks smashing together. The beast roared and roared. 

“ - cannon!” he heard faintly from the outside. 

They all ran to the front hatch. Mr Hickey was already forcing it open as every man gathered near it. Lieutenant Little brought up weapons and as soon as the door open, they all rushed out into the blizzard. Once out of the fallen fabric that protected them, it was like a white wall separated them from the men outside. A thick wall, between MacDonald and Thomas.

He barely saw the corpse on the ground as he ran past it. 

“Cannon, Hodgson!”

The foremast. Thomas was on the foremast. The men ran forwards, moved the cannon, and MacDonald could only stay here, doing nothing. He heard a scream upside, or maybe it was just the wind, he couldn’t be sure. Yet, he kept his eyes up, unmoving, despite the bite of the cold and the pain gripping its way through his clothes. 

Suddenly, there was light on the mast. 

Alexander’s heart stopped. Thomas was laying on the mast, crawling away from the enormous beast whose claws sliced through the air. Its teeth were bared, the wood cracking under its weight and _Thomas_ _was at the end ot the mast, ready to fall-_

__ The cannon shot. The beast screamed. The mast fell. 

MacDonald felt like  _ he _ was falling as well. There was a wet crash, and the men shouted in victory before going after their prey. MacDonald scrutinised the mast, but there was nothing to see. Thomas wasn’t here. 

MacDonald walked aimlessly, the wind hitting him in the face, his mind blank. Until he saw Captain Crozier climbing towards something.  _ Climbing towards Thomas.  _ Even from where he was, MacDonald could see the wound. Immediately, his mind shifted. All the coldness of his professional expertise ran through his mind. 

They brought Blanky down half frozen, curled on himself and bleeding. Six men took him from the stretcher to the nearest bed. He screamed in pain. The second he was put down, Alexander’s hands went on him. 

“Some light, please!” he ordered as he knelt near the wounded leg. Blanky was moaning in pain and it felt like the doctor’s heart would burst. It was bad. Really, really bad. The skin was open, the muscles torn, the flesh ripped to the bone.

The leg was lost.  _ Thomas would lose his leg. _

MacDonald saw Hodgson’s hand bleeding from the corner of his eye, but he couldn’t get his attention off of Thomas. 

“Lieutenant Hodgson, are you fine?”

“Yes, sir-”

“Find the key and get more rum. I’m going to give Mr. Blanky cocaine but we’re going to need to get him plastered as well.”

“I’ll go, I’ll go.” said the Captain. 

MacDonald rose and rolled up his sleeves. He put a garrot up Thomas’ leg (the patient - it wasn’t  _ Thomas _ , it was a  _ patient _ ) and cut the leg of his trousers away from the wound. 

He took a bottle of coca and put it in Thomas’ hand, squeezing his fingers around the ice master’s. Thomas looked up and their gazes crossed. There was pain, of course, but no fear on his face, only determination and something of a challenge as he stared at Alexander. 

Crozier came back half running. “Here! Whiskey!” he said, putting out the wad with the side of his teeth. “Here, drink it all.” he said, almost throwing the bottle at Blanky. He was very clearly in a state of shock, or something approaching it. Perhaps it was guilt; well earned, too.

“No.”

“Drink!” insisted the captain. “No, Francis; everyone gets a shot! I think we made a connection between me and it. Something like an engagement and I want to celebrate.” he declared while Crozier poured the drinks. MacDonald felt his mouth twitch upwards despite everything. “So to me and… it!” Thomas said. 

It was meant as a jape - something to help all the men around gather themselves, MacDonald knew. Yet, when Blanky said this, his eyes found the doctor’s and didn’t let go for what felt like an eternity. Then, he took a gulp from the bottle, his face grimacing all the while. 

MacDonald turned around and went for the saw. “Mr. Jopson, if you will.” He said as he put the saw on Blanky’s leg. The ice master flinched slightly under his hand and Alexander felt the bile rise in his throat. Yet, neither his hands nor his voice shook. 

“Ready,  Mister Blanky?” he asked out loud, more as a warning than as a real question. 

Then, he started.

He made a clean cut in less than a minute or so. Never before had he been so focused nor quick in his job, but Thomas’ cries through the gag were enough to spur him on. 

Afterwards, Blanky was taken to the infirmary - still asleep. Alexander sat on the bedside, his hand on Thomas’ forearm. If someone entered, he would say he was checking his patient’s pulse. Nothing wrong in that. Almost on instinct, his fingers went to the vein, to feel the beat. 

_ Thump, thump, thump. _

__ Alexander bowed his head and let it fall into his palm. He was trembling, he knew. Shaking with suppressed sobs. A hand gripped his forearm. 

“ _ ‘T’alright ol’man _ .” slurred a well-known voice.

Thomas was still half-asleep, his eyes glazed but open. Alexander put his hand on Thomas’ and squeezed it. “Of course it is.” he said with his best try at a smile. “You did-” he took a shuddering breath, “you did give me quite a fright.” 

The doctor swallowed when the unbidden image of Thomas hanging from the mast flashed behind his eyelids. It had always been a fear - since the first time Blanky had gripped the back of his head to crash a kiss on his lips. 

“You were hanging - I thought you were dead.”

“Well, ‘m alive, now, ain’t I?”

Alexander smiled and his thumb caressed the other’s back of the hand softly. “Yes. Yes, you are.” He took the hand and brought it to his lips in a long, soft kiss. “And I’ll work so you stay so for a long time.” 

Something very soft passed in Thomas’ eyes. “I know,” he said, “I trust you.”

Alexander didn’t know if the sound that tore its was out of him was a sob or a laugh. 

Maybe both. 


End file.
